


No Love For You

by caplanbuckybarnes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, Insecurity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:57:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15484263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caplanbuckybarnes/pseuds/caplanbuckybarnes
Summary: Dean knows exactly where it hurts….





	1. Chapter 1

“You know….” Dean taunted. “I pitied you when I brought you on the team. You know that right?”

“Shut up, Dean.” Your jaw tightened as you filled another syringe with liquid. “It’s not going to work.”

“You don’t belong in this family.” he continued on. “You’re worthless, a lousy hunter. Come on, Y/N, you know I’m right. After all, how many times did I have to save your ass?”

You bit down on your tongue as you turned to face Dean. As soon as you made eye contact with him, he beamed and threw a wink at you. “Maybe you just adore playing the damsel in distress because you want a man like me to rescue you and possibly fall in love with you like all those pathetic stories you write out when we’re not hunting.”

You stopped in your tracks at his words. Nobody knew about the love stories you wrote about Dean. Nobody. So how the fuck had he known?

“I cleaned your room a while back when you went to your hometown to visit your friends. I found your journals, telling tales about how you dreamed so desperately for a man to help love you. How desperate you were for affection and appreciation.”

“Dean, quiet.” you interrupted him. “That’s enough.”

He growled out as you shoved a syringe into his neck. You felt no sympathy towards the man, even though you new the man you loved wasn’t the one speaking.

‘i will never love you.” he blinked after the syringe was torn out of his neck. “You’re not my type, you’re gross and unclean. How could I ever love someone like you?”

“Shut up.” you swallowed down the sob in your throat as he grinned like a Cheshire in front of you. You stabbed another injection into his arm as Sam entered the room.

“Ah, Sammy,” Dean grinned as the syringe was taken out of his skin. “Come to rescue the poor damsel in distress, huh?”

Silently, Sam grabbed a roll of Duct tape and ripped a piece off before pressing it tightly to Dean’s mouth. “Ready for more?” Sam asked as he looked at you. “Or do you need a minute?”

“I need a minute.” you mumbled before scurrying from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

A week after Dean had been healed and blessed by Castiel, still, you strayed away from him. He knew what had been said to you out of his own mouth. He knew you were hurting because of him. He knew he loved you. He didn’t think he would ever gain your trust and friendship ever again. Sam had tried comforting you on numerous occasions. But it was no use.

The damage that Dean had caused to your self esteem had been great. You loved Dean for years, keeping it in secret. The fact that he had known all along and remained silent about your diary confessions had hurt. You never knew if you would ever forgive the man.

Two weeks after Dean was back to normal, vases of your favorite flowers started to appear around the bunker. You thought nothing of it at first. Until one day, you had woken up in the middle of the night and strolled through the hallway and found Dean fluffing up a flower as he rested the vase on the kitchen table.

Once he had seen your presence, he jumped away from the plant and grinned sheepishly at you. “What are you doing up this late?” he asked

“I haven’t slept more then two hours since you birthed into a human again.” you answered, skirting around him to grab a glass before filling it with water. “What are the flowers for?”

For a moment, he looked troubled. “Do you remember how I told you Sam felt after he came back from Hell? How he couldn’t understand empathy or affection in normal terms?” You nodded. “When I carried the Mark of Cain, I felt sinister, like I wasn’t myself. I needed to kill and feel blood on my skin. I needed to hurt people to feel some sort of emotion in me.”

“So you attacked my self esteem?” You scoffed, bringing the glass of water to your lips and downing the liquid in one breath. “Gee, thanks for that.”

“I didn’t know what was morally correct, Y/N.” He blinked, sighing as he placed his palms on the table in front of him, hanging his head low. “I know I can never regain your trust or your friendship like before, but I want to. God, I want you in my life.”

“Did you really read my journals?” you asked, feeling your ears grow hot.

“I thought it was something like John’s.” He admitted. “Until I was ten pages in and I realized that it was a mixture of your deepest thoughts and ghouls and ghosts and werewolf. It doesn’t change how sorry I am for betraying you in every way possible. I wish I had died on that chair, Y/N. You don’t deserve to hear those foul words I said to you. You deserve so much better than I could give you.”

Staring at the sincerity etched in the elder lines on his face, you felt yourself crumbling in forgiveness. You placed your glass behind you on the counter and walked over to him before wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him gently.

“I’ll make it up to you, Y/N.” He mumbled as he returned the squeeze.


End file.
